AN: Been a while, huh? I actually have several unfinished Sadist Pair one-shots but got stuck somewhere on page four, so I started an entirely new multi-chaptered story! I hope you enjoy this one!

Warning(s): AU, Modern New York City. I do not know a thing about the police force, so know that likely nothing is accurate! I only did a small bit of research (unit names only). If anyone knows more about the NYPD, please let me know so I can correct the information.

Pairing(s): Gintoki x Sougo, slight Gintoki x Hijikata, and whatever else pops up.

Background Information:
Sougo Okita – Age 22, Detective
Toushiro Hijikata – Age 25, Detective
Gintoki Sakata – Age 29, Chief of Detective Bureau
Kagura Yato – Age 21, Trainer? Not quite sure what she does yet.
Shinpachi Shimura – Age 21, Secretary for Gintoki, Desk Jobs

17th Precinct – Prologue
Written by Clow Angel

Red.

Crimson… A deep, dark red. It painted every surface in arcs and splatters, smeared across counters and tiled floors.

A sixteen year old Okita Sougo stood in his kitchen, eyes wide and fearful as he took in the still form of his beloved elder sister. Red continued to flow freely from an open wound on her chest right above her left breast. The metallic tang of blood filled his nostrils.

"S-sis?" he stammered, taking one step forward, then another, and another until he towered over her, casting eerie shadows over her pale skin. He knelt on the shockingly cold kitchen floor, uncaring of the blood seeping into his jeans.

Black invaded his vision soon, clouding his thoughts, blurring his vision.

When Sougo next awoke, it was to whiteness. The sheets he was carefully tucked under were a clean white. The walls surrounding him were just as white if not whiter. All the whiteness was closing in on him. He forced his eyes shut. Immediately, visions of crimson assaulted his senses. "Sis…" he whispered into the empty room. What happened to his dear sister?

Exhaustion soon claimed him, eating away his mental strength. Before his mind completely shut down, he caught a glimpse of shining silver and twin orbs of ruby in the white doorway. It stood out in stark contrast against the plain white. And then he saw no more.

Outside the painfully white room where a teenage boy slept fitfully, Gintoki Sakata stood with his back to the door.

'Poor kid.' Coming home to find your sister bathed in a pool of her own blood must have been traumatizing. It was unfortunate they couldn't prevent the crime, but at the very least, the girl's life was saved. But it was equally, if not more unfortunate, that a young boy would forever have that terrible memory.

Gintoki sighed, staring up into the fluorescent lights lighting the hospital halls. He hoped he would never see the pair of siblings again, just like he hoped to never see all the previous victims ever again.

Several years later…

The door opened with a bang, emitting one Isao Kondo into the room. The man grinned cheerfully and tossed a folder onto the messy desk stacked with imported Shounen Jump magazines.

"Hey Sakata! Here's the file for the kid transferring over to your unit from mine."

Gintoki blinked once in reply. "Eh? A transfer?"

"Hey, don't give me that look. I told you about it last month."

The silver-haired man groaned, tossing his current read onto his desk and knocking over an empty paper cup. "Ah, come on. I don't want any more people! Last month, I got someone transferred over already. What's with these transfers? Why my unit? We're not looking for people. At least last time I checked, we weren't."

Isao scoffed, plopping into one of the sinfully comfy couches in front of the desk. "You just don't want to remember anymore names."

"So sue me for my bad memory. And why's everyone in this station Japanese? The names are so damn hard to remember. We're in New York City!"

"Just read the file!"

"Fine, you stupid gorilla," he grumbled, finally picking up the folder and flipping it open. A strikingly familiar face looked back at him. Although his memory concerning people usually really sucked, Gintoki could remember all the cases' victims and their close relations he dealt with.

"—good kid with a bit of a social problem, but I think he'd be great for—"

Isao stopped in his rant when he noticed the unusually quiet man across from him. "Sakata?"

"Gorilla, when did this kid join your unit?" His red eyes remained on the profile picture. His eyes quickly darted over to the basic information.

Name: Sougo Okita
Age: 22

'The kid was only twenty-two and already going into the Detective Bureau. That event must have been the primary force behind his decision.'

"Uh, last year. Why?"

"Nothing," he replied carelessly. "Was just wondering since he's so young."

"He was top of his class in the Police Academy. He's our resident genius, but he sucks at Hostage Negotiations. He really doesn't belong in my unit. I don't even get why he was placed in it. He wanted to be in yours since the beginning."

Gintoki sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll take him."

"Eh… really?"

"Isn't that what you wanted?!" The young chief tossed the file at Isao's head irritably.

The file was immediately tossed back. "Sign the papers then! And keep the rest of it, idiot!"

"Right, right." Rummaging around his desk and drawers, he finally procured a pen and signed on the dotted lines. "There," he said with a note of finality, removed the documents clipped to the front of the folder and tossed the documents back. He shoved the folder into an open drawer. He'll read it later.

"Thanks. The kid will have a bright future, I just know it."

"We'll see about that."

The man was suddenly hit by a wave of tears, and he sniffled loudly. "I'll miss him."

"Oi! Why are you crying?! You're only downstairs. You can visit, you retard."

The tears immediately dried. "Oh right! Hahahaha!"

'I'm surrounded by insane people.'

Three days later…

Sougo Okita stood at attention before a large mahogany desk, eyes staring straight ahead.

"At ease, this isn't the military. And I hate all the formality."

"Yes sir," the wheat-haired male replied immediately.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Take a seat."

"Uh, yes sir."

"I looked through your file. You have an excellent track record with grades that placed you at the top of your class in the Police Academy. Except you really, really sucked at Hostage Negotiation—like, seriously sucked."

The garnet-eyed man didn't say a word in reply, only nodded.

'The hell? No reaction? That won't do.' Gintoki remembered a much more emotional teenager, not this stoic man in front of him. Then again, the circumstances under which they met were less than ideal so what he saw and what the boy really was, was likely different. The kid didn't even seem to remember him. Well, understandable. Sougo was pretty hysterical when they had met. He likely didn't remember any of the detectives and police he had met that day.

Gintoki flipped through the transfer's file. He remembered there was some information that might be useful in this situation. There was something… Aha!

It is reported that Okita Sougo had a deep rivalry with another cadet, Toushiro Hijikata.

Gintoki picked up the phone lying on his desk and dialed his secretary's number. "Get Toushi in here." He felt slightly bad for Toushiro, but it was for a good cause. The kid was too uptight. Hopefully, he'd loosen up in the presence of someone familiar—even if it was a hated presence.

There was a series of knocks minutes later.

"Come in, come in."

"What did you wa—"

Sapphire eyes met garnet ones, and all hell broke loose.

"You!" Sougo had stood abruptly and pointed an accusing finger at Hijikata.

Gintoki positively cackled, drawing the attention of the other two men in the room.

Sougo eyed his new chief warily, not liking the foreboding feeling he was getting.

Lacing his fingers together, Gintoki rested his chin against the back of his hands. "Sougo Okita and Toushiro Hijikata, you are now partners." He grinned.

Suddenly, Sougo seriously regretted his decision to transfer.